


Torture by Banana

by walking_tornado



Series: WC Missing Scenes [8]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Episode: s01e11 Home Invasion, Fluff, Innuendo, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 13:06:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7685713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walking_tornado/pseuds/walking_tornado
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter and June tease Neal. (a missing scene for 1.11, Home Invasion)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Torture by Banana

**Author's Note:**

> For wc_rewatch, prompted by china_shop's comment.

Neal: _You're in my chair._  
Peter: _Oh? I didn't see your name on it._  
Neal: _You guys playing scrabble?_  
June: _Sort of._  
Peter: _Trying to figure out what this means._  
Neal: _Really?_  
June: _I've seen a code once or twice in my life. We were playing with shift ciphers._  
Neal: _Glad you're having fun._  
Peter: _We should get him a banana or something._  
June: _I think so. Yes._

***

Peter allowed his grin to surface as Neal walked away from the balcony without eating and slunk back into his room. Torturing him was far too easy—he had a ridiculously thin skin for a criminal.

"We should get him a banana or something," Peter said to June.

"I think so. Yes." June nodded, and the dimples that appeared on her otherwise perfectly composed face were a testament to her amusement. 

With a smirk, Peter folded the coded list he and June had been working on and slipped it into his pocket. Peter hadn't missed Neal's "oops-he-found-it" reaction upon seeing the list. His eyes narrowed as he thought of Neal taking it from evidence, brazenly slipping it from under the nose of the agents on his team. Peter and Neal would definitely discuss that later.

"Come on," Peter said. "He's fun to poke at in the morning." 

June broke into a peal of laughter and nodded in delighted eagerness.

"Oh!" she said with a devilish grin. "Follow my lead." She stood up and grabbed a banana from the center of the table. Peter took a second banana and raised a questioning eyebrow. June winked at him. Peter wasn't sure what she planned, but he almost felt sorry for Neal. 

"Oh, Neal," June said. She walked past Peter into the guest room. Neal had taken a manual glass— _No_ , Peter corrected himself, _knowing Neal, it must be crystal_ —juicer from the cupboard. Peter felt a bit guilty, thinking of the almost full glass of orange juice that still sat on the patio table, compliments of June's house staff, but then he remembered the stolen list and any guilt fizzled away.

"Mmm?" Neal looked up from the cutting board where a number of oranges had already been halved.

"You should probably eat something, dear," June said, and she held out a banana to him. "Bananas are heavenly."

"That's okay, thanks. Making some juice." Neal's eyes flashed to Peter, but he didn't do anything else to betray his annoyance at Peter's intrusion into his life.

"The thing about bananas," June said, catching Neal's attention again before he could turn back to the counter. She began slowly tugging down a strip of the peel with her teeth, before licking up the revealed meat of the fruit and then tugging down another strip. "Is that they're an excellent source of potassium."

"Uh. . ." Neal had frozen and was staring at June in obvious bewilderment.

"And potassium is important for energy," Peter said, suppressing his enjoyment as Neal's too-wide eyes turned towards him, "and endurance." Peter didn't look away from Neal, but he saw June's small nod of encouragement in his periphery.

Peter's words tugged a nervous laugh out of Neal. "I think I'm good—"

"Oh, I think you're going to need something for endurance," Peter said. "For work," he added with as much sincerity as he could muster. 

"Yeah," Neal said slowly, stretching out the word as though to buy himself time.

"They help with circulation too. To help blood flow to the brain and . . . elsewhere." June smiled sweetly at Neal. "They're hard—bananas that is—when they're taken off the tree," June added, almost as an afterthought. "And they stay hard for a very . . . long. . . time."

"Peter?" Neal said, and Peter loved the hesitation in Neal's voice. It wasn't often that he could shake off the smooth mask Neal wore. June was brilliant. Peter met Neal's eyes calmly and slid his banana through his loose fist, under pretense of examining it for blemishes, then moved it out again. In and out. Neal's mouth had fallen open and he didn't look away.

"I also heard that potassium is radioactive," June said with perfect sincerity.

"So," Peter said, "You're saying it's hot."

"Very hot," June said, with emphasis. Then she smiled, placed the tip of the banana between her lips and, ever so slowly, pushed it in. 

The dawning horror on Neal's face was priceless. June's eyes twinkled when she glanced towards Peter. Peter stripped the banana, and proceeded to eat it, making sure to run it around his lips before inching it in and hollowing his cheeks for suction before each bite. 

Neal's eyes were comically wide and he shook his head as if needing to negate what he was seeing. Peter didn't miss the gradual tenting of Neal's fancy pajama bottoms nor the surreptitious movement of Neal's hand to cover it with his robe. 

Watching Neal flush as Peter engulfed the banana once more, Peter wondered how long it had been for him. Peter met Neal every morning and they often worked late. Even with his admittedly stunning good looks and no matter how suave he played it, Neal had yet bring someone home, other than the woman last night. Peter wasn't clear what he'd walking in on last night: despite how it looked, the feeling in the room, with Alex, was all wrong for a tryst. And Alex hadn't stayed. Peter's felt his amusement dwindle. Needling Neal was fun, but he never meant to be cruel. He swallowed the rest of the banana and automatically licked the residue from his lips. He realized his mistake when he looked to Neal, whose eyes were fixed on his mouth. Then Neal turned and made a bee line for the bathroom. The door slammed shut.

"Neal," Peter began, and he took a step towards the closed door, but June put a hand on his arm. 

Still smiling—and holding a banana peel—she studied him for a moment before saying, "He's going to be just fine." Then she sighed, let go of his arm, and walked to the patio. "You know, Byron made sure there were bananas on the table every day." June's tone had become slightly wistful, but then she shook her head as if to shake off the melancholy. "Have fun, boys," June called out towards the closed bathroom door even though her gaze remained on Peter. Her pleased smile left no doubt at all about her meaning. 

Peter gave a small, embarrassed laugh and shifted on his feet. "You know that this was just to get under his skin, right."

"Oh, yes dear, I know!" June said, and Peter felt like a small child praised for effort. "And from what I've seen that's not all you can get into."

Peter's eyes flew wide. "What? No . . . not _into_." He hated the stammer that snuck in when he was flustered. "Under. To get under his—"

"Mmhmm," June said with a self-satisfied grin, and she turned around and walked away to the door on the other side of the roof, leaving Peter speechless. 

Neal's head was the first to reappear, a short while later, and his eyes darted around the room before he ventured out with practiced nonchalance. Peter noted the droplets of water that dripped from the water Neal must have splashed on his face and not completely dried off. His fancy pajamas, that had somehow remained unwrinkled while he slept, now had wrinkles as if they had been quickly bunched as he pushed them downward when he— _Oh_. Peter blinked at Neal, and yanked his eyes away from the bulge that now wasn't. Peter reddened and the interest, that he'd been able to suppress while he and June played with Neal, now rekindled and made his pants more constricting than was comfortable. 

Peter shifted awkwardly and moved to place the kitchen table between himself and Neal. At present, Neal was avoiding looking at him. Peter quietly stuck his hands into his pockets to readjust himself, and his fingers brushed the coded list. Work. Familiar territory. Neal would follow his lead, Peter knew, and they could pretend that everything was normal. He leaned forward against the table.

***

Peter: _This is the actual list, isn't it? You stole from Evidence. ..._


End file.
